


Au Naturel

by autohaptic, rent_a_gundam, rubyofkukundu



Series: Rent-a-Gundam [30]
Category: Gundam & Related Fandoms, Gundam 00
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cooking, Drabble Collection, F/M, Humor, Incest, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-20
Updated: 2009-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autohaptic/pseuds/autohaptic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rent_a_gundam/pseuds/rent_a_gundam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles about nakedness and cooking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Au Naturel

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the sprawling Rent-a-Gundam series: a university/rent-boy!AU that was co-written by Veda, Auto, Orange and Typo.
> 
> Only a portion of the RAG fics have been posted on AO3. For all other fics in the series, check out the Rent-a-Gundam journal: <http://rent-a-gundam.livejournal.com>
> 
> ***
> 
> These drabbles were written by Veda (rubyofkukundu), Auto (autohaptic), Orange and Typo.
> 
> Originally posted here: <http://rent-a-gundam.livejournal.com/46819.html>

Tieria will blame Lyle, because that is undoubtedly the person responsible for the fact that he just walked in on Neil in the kitchen, cooking eggs.  
  
Well, the cooking eggs part was admittedly not the centre of the problem. Neil had been wearing an apron, the dark green one he customarily used. Only the apron, which had been why Tieria had just gotten an eyeful of Neil Dylandy's ass and immediately decided that in fact getting himself some breakfast was far lower in priority than heading back upstairs for some privacy.  
  
It would almost have been better if he had been naked. A merely naked Neil Dylandy would not have brought to Tieria's mind such a rich variety of scenarios. When he closes his eyes his mental version of Neil is hard under his apron. Tieria knows this because he spends some time pressing his naked foot against Neil's cock before he permits him to go make Tieria breakfast.  
  
Insufficient care given to the meal preparation will of course result in punishment, he thinks, stroking his cock. Perhaps something similar to what he walked in on the other day-- and Hallelujah Haptism had done that on purpose, no doubt about it.  
  
The difference is, in the scenario Tieria imagines, once his punishment is finished Neil gets up, and kisses him, and says _next time, you wear the apron_.

***  
  
Halle doesn't lose often at anything. Drinking contests, staring contests, eating contests especially. He's just good at everything-- supersoldier, one might say. Al might say, like a curse, when Halle manages to beat him at cards again.  
  
"How about we go old fashioned?" Al suggests, hoping he doesn't sound too intent. Knowing he probably does. "Blackjack."  
  
A game of pure fucking luck. Well-- there was a little skill, and paying attention to cards, but mostly it was sheer luck on what cards you were dealt, which was what Al was going for.  
  
Halle agrees, surprisingly enough.  
  
Al loses the first five hands, but he's getting into it after that, figuring out the flow, and suddenly (with a look at Neil, who's playing dealer) he says, "Loser cooks dinner for the winner. Naked."  
  
Halle laughs, shaking his head, and agrees.  
  
Somehow, through that aforementioned luck or magically gained skill, Al not only manages to win, he manages to thoroughly trump Halle. He'd laugh, but by the time he wins the twelfth hand in a row he is too busy being astounded to do anything but stare at the cards.  
  
"What kind of fucking meal do you want?" Halle asks, sounding more amused than anything else.  
  
"One without meat," Al says, smiling just a little. "Something with tempeh." Because, no matter what everyone else says, Halle has some pretty excellent culinary skills and Al's not going to limit them by giving a very specific request.  
  
Halle snorts, but not the _yeah right_ sort. More like the _If you say so, cocksucker_ type. Al smiles at him, and gets bared teeth in response. He doesn't suppress the shiver, and Halle's expression shifts into one that makes him shiver even harder.  
  
"Maybe I should--" Neil starts to say, but Halle grabs his arm. Not roughly, just enough force to be obeyed. Neil is staying. And they might have sex on the fuck table. Al sure as hell isn't going to say no, even if it means dinner (and Halle cooking it in the nude) will have to wait.  
  
It'll be worth it; it always is.

***  
  
Lichty never really liked the idea of breakfast in bed. For one, he'd probably get crumbs everywhere and have to change the sheets. For another, it was likely he'd spend the entire time worried he might spill something that would soak into the mattress.  
  
"Well what do you want for your birthday, then?" Christina asks in French, laying half on top of Lichty. His birthday is tomorrow.  
  
"Naked cooking," Lichty replies without hesitation, sticking to the same language. "Neil used to do it. Two years in a row. I think I got spoiled."  
  
Christina laughs, shaking her head and letting her eyes fall closed. Gorgeous brown eyes, somehow catching the light and conveying her continued amusement even after she's done laughing. Lichty's hand moves up a little, from the small of her back to her middle. "Ah-ah, not your birthday _yet_."  
  
"Doesn't have to be," Lichty says lightly, smile playing on his lips as easily as his fingers play over her spine. "I can imagine you in nothing but an apron _anytime_."  
  
Her little growl is just as delicious as the mental image of her fair skin and perfect little ass framed by a black apron.

***  
  
There's a cacophony of pans. Followed by a yelp. Followed by a cloud of steam billowing out of the kitchen doorway.  
  
"Ow! My cock and balls! Ow!"  
  
Kati doesn't even raise her eyes from her book. "Patrick," she says, "what did I tell you about not wearing underpants in the kitchen?"

***  
  
Really, it's a laundry issue.  
  
He woke up to find that the sum total of all clean clothing in the house was one sock, and he needed to make breakfast, so he threw a load of laundry in the machine and walked into the kitchen bare-assed. The only other person in the house was Halle, and like hell was he going to object, right?  
  
Well, he didn't.  
  
Which is why Lyle is now on the floor, and it's going to be Halle's fucking fault if the pancakes burn while the cook is busy getting nailed. He wasn't even wearing the _Fuck Me I'm Irish_ apron, for heaven's sake.


End file.
